


Medic! Medic!

by MudaMuda



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angels, Angst, Awkwardness, Demons, Doctor/Patient, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9372449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MudaMuda/pseuds/MudaMuda
Summary: One of Heaven's strongest angels loses a battle against a demon lord and sustains terrible injuries. While in the hospital, he reuinites with an old friend and gains something irreplacable.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iyuro](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Iyuro).



Leading the Alpha Company in the Special Angel Defense Force was not a job for the faint-hearted. Especially at a time like this, when the devils became too cocky and rose from the depths of hell to create a diabolical stronghold in an area of Heaven, a strong leader was needed to lead the opposing fight. At the helm of this divine operation, commanding this legion of Heaven’s strongest angels, was Arthur Kirkland, a powerful and decorated warrior, sent to clear out the rabble and restore order. While his comrades were busy evacuating the remaining angels in the area and clearing away the lower class demons, Arthur split off alone to fight his own battle.     

Tongues of fire bloomed from the insides of homes ransacked by devils. The swirling ash provided some cover, greying the white of his uniform and masking the brightness of his halo. Silent as the smoke clouds rising around him, Arthur picked his way through the dust and rubble at the edge a once-pristine courtyard. A white marble building came fully into view as he crept closer. There, Arthur was sure he would find his target. According to intel, the council building of this city was being used as a base for the leader of this horde of devils-- a powerful demon lord by the name of Alfred.

Who, like Arthur, did not hide away and leave the fighting to his subordinates. Standing high up on the council building’s cracked balcony, leaning over a crooked wrought iron railing and looking very pleased with this whole operation, was the Demon Lord himself. Like the majority of devils, he dressed completely in black, and even his glasses were smeared with soot. His gleaming smile and wheat blond hair were the only parts of him that did not match the rest of his aesthetic.

“Yo!” was the shouted greeting Arthur received from him when he came into audible range. “You’ve got balls to step onto my property!”

“ _Your_ property?” Arthur laughed wryly. Just to spite him, he continued walking forward until he was beneath the balcony, then squared his shoulders and called up to him. “I am Arthur Kirkland, Commander of Heaven’s strongest class of warriors, and I’m here to defeat you!”

“More like you’re here to get an ass kicking.”

“You’ll eat your words.”

“Alright,” Alfred said, and gave him a smirk. “Then show me what you can do, sweetheart.”

But Arthur was already powering up his magic, concentrating his energy, growing it to it’s peak and then releasing it at him in a burst of energy. The blast went spiralling into the balcony where Alfred stood, crashing into the structure and raining rubble down.

Through the fine, powdery dust coating the air around him, Arthur had trouble seeing where his target was. Until, with a burst of wind and the sound of wings beating the air, the Demon Lord dropped directly in front of him and took a swipe at his head. Arthur dodged in time, delivering another blast of energy that just missed the Demon Lord’s shoulder. Then he unfurled his wings and took to the air, rising to the Demon Lord’s height.

“What a surprise,” Alfred said, his voice muffled by the gusting wind. “All the other angels I fought were dead by this point.”

“I’m more resilient than other angels,” Arthur replied.

This was true, and Arthur proved his might as he battled. But Alfred was unrelenting and as powerful as the intel told, and Arthur began to wonder, as their fight stretched on, if he would make it through.

In the end it took only one misstep, one misplaced movement to end the battle for Arthur, as one of the Demon Lord’s spells blasted through his wing and sent him careening to the ground. The impact of the fall left him dazed, but through his blurred vision he could see the Demon Lord land in front of him and advance for another attack.  

Dun-colored feathers littered the ground between them. Arthur could feel a sharp throbbing on the expanse of his left wing closest to his shoulder. Wincing, he curled it in towards his body and caught sight of the damage. Blood trickled from a large, ragged hole where feathers and flesh were torn out. The remaining feathers around the site of the wound shuffled together, bent out of shape. A bone forming the frame of the wing stuck out at an unnatural angle. Flying was out of the question now. Trying to move the appendage hurt too much, so it dangled pathetically, the feathered tip scraping along the ground as Arthur wobbled to his feet only to receive a blow that smashed him through the ground floor window of the council building. He landed hard onto shards of glass that tore into his body, and couldn’t find the strength to pick himself up again. Now his entire side where he had fallen blazed with pain. More broken bones, more lacerations.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Glass crunched under boots, Arthur was hauled up by the scruff of his jacket and dragged back outside. He grit his teeth and tried not to shout as each bump agitated his injuries. The Demon Lord threw him to the ground and stood over him. Arthur waited to be blasted into oblivion, but he was just stared at. Then the Demon Lord laughed at him. Rolling, boisterous, clutching-his-sides laughter that would have given Arthur the strength to punch him in the face, had he not been in horrible pain.

“That was fun,” Alfred said, once he finally shut up. “I don’t even feel like killing you. Come back when you can actually give me a challenge.”

Then he turned and walked away, his swishing, pointed tail the last thing Arthur saw before he lost consciousness.   

 

Arthur had an idea of how badly he was injured when he jolted awake while being wheeled in on a gurney, and realized he was in a hospital rather than a medical tent. Some injuries simply were too extensive to treat in the field, in which case the wounded would be transferred to the infirmary back at base-- where he was now.

His body felt pleasantly numb. He probably had been pumped full of painkillers while he was unconscious. The physical numbness wasn’t enough to drown out furious thoughts of his failure, though. The realization that he lost to the Demon Lord came flooding back to him, and the surroundings of the hospital seemed to taunt him. Bright overhead lights, pristine white walls, the sounds of the gurney wheels rattling below him made Arthur feel so pathetic he wanted to spring back up, fly to the front lines and put the Demon Lord in his place. _Literally_ put him on this gurney in his place. Instead he lay silently, grumpy and agitated while the paramedics transferred him to a bed.

His throat felt parched. Being an angel, his body did not require sustenance the way the bodies of humans did, but sometimes when the soul took significant damage, angels felt hunger and thirst and pain. Like a remnant of their past life.

A bowl of water on his bedside table drew his attention, but he could not lift his numbed arm to take it. Dismayed, he tried to simply wriggle up into a sitting position but this also was impossible. He had not only been given painkillers, but some kind of sedative as well. Arthur’s irritation flared hotter.

The curtain around his bed was drawn aside and a small doctor hurried in. Clad in a white smock, and a mask pulled over his nose and mouth, carrying a silver tray with an assortment of tools, he looked very purposeful. Arthur still snapped at him.

“Why the hell have I been sedated?”

The doctor did not look at him, setting the tray down on the table. “Forgive me, but your injuries are very extensive. Nerve sedatives were administered for your own safety. If you moved, you would injure yourself more.”

“You didn’t think I could be trusted not to move?”

“I was not the one who administered the sedative,” the doctor said, rolling a stool up alongside Arthur’s bed and sitting on it. “I’m only giving my opinion.”

The doctor gave him a pointed look, indicating Arthur’s agitated state, and something sparked in Arthur’s memory as their eyes met. His anger faded in an instant as he realized he recognized this person.

 

Arthur had had a crush on Kiku for a while. They had gone to qualifying school together before they parted ways. Kiku went to become a doctor and Arthur, a combat specialist. Arthur had not really expected their paths to cross again after graduation. He just thought Kiku was very cute and had his head screwed on straight. Seeing him again now, years later, Arthur found he was still of the same opinion. Unfortunately, Kiku was a mystery, and Arthur had no idea if the feeling was mutual. He had spent far more time than he cared to admit wondering if Kiku also was attracted to him. Kiku should still _recognize_ him, at least. It would be impossible not to, as angels never aged, and they had interacted so many times before. But some part of Arthur hoped Kiku somehow wouldn’t recognize him, and they could treat each other as strangers. Their lines of work were too different to hope to maintain a relationship anyway. Qualifying school had been a different time, easy and simple, where they could talk and flirt awkwardly, and see each other on a regular basis. But now--

“Arthur,” Kiku said from behind his mask, without taking his eyes off the needle he was threading. “What did you do to yourself?’”

Arthur’s rambling train of thought ceased abruptly. The situation had become immensely more embarrassing now that Kiku had recognized him, and now they were going to have to rekindle their old… friendship? Relationship?  Maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Kiku was only being polite. But, ah, the question he had been asked…

Arthur looked down at his lap. He really didn’t want Kiku knowing he lost an important battle.  

Luckily, Kiku didn’t seem very interested in receiving an answer. His focus was on stitching up large, bleeding lacerations on Arthur’s shoulder and chest that Arthur could barely remember getting in the adrenaline of the fight.

“I’m going to stretch out your wings,” Kiku said, once he had finished.

Oh. As numb with painkillers as he was, Arthur had completely forgotten about his wing injury that, as he remembered it, was perhaps singularly bad enough to land him in a hospital.

Kiku sat him up and bent him forward to make space for his wings to unfold. Arthur could not feel anything but a tugging between his shoulderblades as his wings extended fully, the tips brushing the curtains. Kiku started the examination closest to his back on his left wing, where the damage was the worst. Arthur heard him brushing through the feathers with gloved fingers, but Kiku did not say anything as he examined the wound. Arthur smiled wryly, even though Kiku couldn’t see his face.

“Terrible, isn’t it?”

Kiku hummed in agreement. Arthur heard the tray rattle behind him, and a light pressure on his wing as Kiku began to clean the injury. All things considered, this reunion was not as uncomfortable as Arthur expected it would be. Though he supposed he had Kiku to thank for that, who knew when to be quiet and not make useless conversation or ask embarrassing questions. A skill, Arthur thought, a great many people lacked. Not to mention, he enjoyed a bit of silence after his stressful ordeal the previous day.

Once Kiku finished the back of the wing, he moved around to the front side. His expression was mostly covered by the mask, but Arthur could see his eyes. They were as dark and serious as he remembered, but moreso now that he was absorbed in a task. Even back in school, Arthur liked to watch him work because he concentrated so hard; all his attention was intensely focused.

Fast, quiet, efficient and gentle as he pulled bits of shrapnel from the wound. Kiku cleaned it, dabbing the surface using an antiseptic-soaked cloth pad on the end of a stick so it was less abrasive than rubbing with his hand. The click of tweezers, a few metallic taps on the tray as Kiku exchanged them for a needle and thread to sew up the ragged ends of the injury. Then he folded the wing back up and bandaged it, wrapping gauze around Arthur’s chest, under his left arm and over his shoulder to secure the wing to his body and keep it immobile. He rose to his feet and nodded at his work.

“Try to rest, and stay as still as possible,” Kiku said. “If the pain begins to bother you, take these.” He left two pills on another little tray on the table.

“It was good to see you again,” he said.

Arthur was about to agree, but Kiku touched him on the chest and flooded him with healing energy. Calm washed over Arthur, and his words died on his tongue, and all his stress faded into nothing.

“Thank you,” was all Arthur could manage to say, before his eyes became too heavy to keep open, and he slept.

 

 

Despite their quiet reunion, they slid back into comfortable conversation within the next few days, chatting idly whenever Kiku came to change his bandages.

“I almost defeated the Demon Lord Alfred singlehandedly,” Arthur told him, once he was in the mood to boast. Even though “almost defeated” wasn’t quite the truth, just fighting someone as powerful as Alfred and coming back alive was a boast worthy accomplishment, even if he hadn’t succeeded in winning. Kiku at least seemed impressed, and watching his eyes shine with fondness was enough to keep Arthur’s spirits high while both his body and ego healed.

This period of happiness was cut short quickly when an unexpected visitor arrived for him. Arthur felt his blood pressure rise to a dangerous level when he saw Francis slide in through the door. As the second in command of A Company, Francis kept very busy kissing the asses of superiors and pretending to do his work. And fighting with Arthur, as they had done since they first met in the military academy. They butted heads so often Arthur wondered how they hadn’t killed each other yet.

Francis strutted over and folded his golden wings, the same color as his stupid, perfectly coiffed hair. He didn’t even try to conceal his mirth when he saw Arthur’s condition.

“Oh, Arthur. I told you, you really should think before you throw yourself into a dangerous situation,” he said. “Your face gets more battered and unattractive every time I see you.”

“I’m sure you have somewhere else to be, Francis.”

“I’m always able to find time to annoy you.”

“I know. Get out. I don’t want to see you.”

“But I have news,” Francis said, then continued anyway. “Everyone knows you lost very badly to the Demon Lord, and now the general is furious at you for making such a mistake.”

“Which general?”

“Ludwig.”

Arthur snorted. “Being furious about everything is typical for him. Anyway, why were you sent to deliver that message? I find it hard to believe you’re satisfied doing scrub work.”

“I wasn’t sent. Coming here personally was in my own interest.”

“And what interest is that? To gloat?”

Francis beamed, but it was shallow. “As well as to inform you that you’re in danger of having your position taken by someone else.”

“ _Someone_ else. Wouldn’t you like that? For me to be demoted so you can take my position permanently.”

“Mm, I could.”

“You couldn’t. It’d involve actually fighting a demon lord. You’re not strong enough to do that.”

Francis curled a lock of hair around his finger idly. “Ludwig thinks I am.”

Arthur felt cold. “What?”

Francis’ smirk had returned upon seeing Arthur’s dismay. “He does, and I have orders to lead the next attack in your place. The devil’s stronghold is close to crumbling. It will fall once their leader is defeated, who you so kindly scratched up for me. What a shame you’ll be too weak to come out and watch me succeed where you failed.”

Before Arthur could recover from the shock of this news, Francis had flipped his hair and walked out of the room. Arthur wanted to yell for him to come back and utter those fighting words again so they could see which of them really was stronger. Maybe if he put Francis in the hospital and out of commission, he could convince the generals to contest their decision. After all, Ludwig wasn’t the only general who could have had a say in this ridiculous matter.

Without thinking, Arthur threw his blankets off and twisted around to haul himself from the bed and go after Francis, but jerked to a stop as dizzying spasms of pain shot through his body. Kiku’s hand grasped his unbroken arm, pulling him back down.

“Don’t move,” Kiku said. “You’ll tear your stitches.”

He kept his hand on his arm until Arthur got back into bed, settled down completely and tore his eyes away from the door. Kiku pressed his shoulders and made him recline against the pillows. Then he quietly resumed changing his bandages.

“I don’t care,” Arthur said, when the silence became too dense to stand. “I don’t care what Francis does. After all, the special defense force operates like clockwork. If a part is missing, they go on without it. It’s not like I’ve lost my job or anything. He’s just the best fighter they could find to be my shoddy replacement until I recover.”

Kiku said nothing. Arthur continued, “Francis and I have always been like this. He was just waiting for the moment that I slipped up so he could step in and take over my position. And he very well could.”

With a clip of scissors, Kiku separated the bandage from the roll and tied the loose ends snugly over Arthur’s wound.

“Before he came, I couldn’t wait to get better and leave,” Arthur said. “But now I don’t know what I want to do. Imagine if he does, somehow, end up defeating the Demon Lord. I think going back to my job after that… after he did it better than me… ”

“It would be lonely,” Kiku said.

Not shameful, not unfortunate. ‘Lonely’ was also the word Arthur had been thinking. Kiku also seemed to understand that if Francis ended up beating Alfred, Arthur would have nothing left. No friends, and less to his name than his rival.

Arthur knew he was good at his job, but he also didn’t have any real friends. He spent his time concentrating on bettering his skills, not making friends. The fact that he spent his afterlife largely in his own company did not bother him when he considered his high position, all the glory and recognition that came with it. But many were also jealous, or enemies, and Arthur knew he was generally not pleasant tempered or easy to befriend.

Normally Arthur would hate being pitied, but this was sympathy Kiku was giving him. Kiku was the same type of person, who highly valued his work and was indifferent to the concept of a social life.

Arthur imagined that air of loneliness was part of what originally drew him to Kiku. When he first met him, it was very early in the morning. Kiku was alone in a corner of the library, hunched over a textbook with piles more surrounding him, almost hiding him from view. It wasn’t exam week, Kiku just liked to be left alone. But he let Arthur join him, too polite to say no, and they eventually warmed up to each other.

They ended up spending time together, alone, for most of university. And then they graduated, and Arthur felt like he had lost an important part of his life. Going back to his job as commander also hurt to think about when he realized he probably wouldn’t see Kiku again for a long time.

 

A week later, Arthur’s halo had become very dim, reflecting the weak condition of his soul. He didn’t need Kiku’s word to know his injuries had stopped healing. Kiku was more concerned with this than he was. Perhaps he worried that he could lose his job if Arthur didn’t recover. Arthur didn’t want to heal, though, because that meant he would have to leave. But the longer he delayed, the weaker he became.

“Your psyche is weak,” Kiku said. “Stop dwelling on bad thoughts or you’ll never heal.”

“Well, if it’s for your sake,” Arthur said. “I might make an effort so you don’t lose a patient.”

“Don’t joke about that.”

“Hmph.”

“I understand you’re upset, but you need to try.”

Arthur sighed. “Leave me alone so I can sleep.”

Kiku frowned at him, then turned and yanked the curtains around the bed closed. Arthur expected him to leave, but he didn’t. The white drapes blocked Arthur’s bed from view, and Arthur wondered why Kiku was bothering to give them privacy. Did he have something to say to him?

Kiku pulled at the front of his smock. He walked back over to the bed. He tugged down his mask, and Arthur realized it was the first time he had seen him without it since he arrived in the hospital. Kiku came close to him, with a determined look and a soft blush on his face.

“This is for your own good,” he said. Then he leant in and kissed him on the mouth.

Arthur’s energy surged from the delight the unexpected kiss gave him, and in the moment where his mind went blank with excitement, he was unable to keep his power under control. Energy coursed from him, bubbling over and affecting Kiku, whose legs gave out. He slumped onto Arthur’s lap with a sigh, drawing his tongue over his lip, pressing it into his mouth in a much more sensual kiss.

Immediately after they pulled apart, Arthur’s thoughts were frantic, all of them more or less iterations of, _Shit, I lost control and now he knows how much I want him._ His skin blazed with heat down to his fingertips, and he couldn’t do anything but gape at Kiku.

Kiku’s breath was warm and shallow. He drew back slowly.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” Arthur asked.

“No. It felt good.”

“Oh.”

“It was… wild and uncontrollable,” Kiku said. His face was flushed with pleasure. He looked at Arthur like he wanted to eat him up.

Arthur’s heart thrummed in his chest. He raised an eyebrow.  “Just for my own good, hm?”

Kiku’s mouth opened slightly, then he blinked and shook himself out of his daze. “Ah-- um-- I didn’t think you would react so strongly… and for that matter, I didn’t expect it to affect me as well... ”

Before he could stop himself, Arthur’s arm went around Kiku’s waist, and they were kissing again. This time it was more intense. Kiku sat across his lap, and Arthur’s hand drifted under his shirt. He could feel Kiku’s wings tucked in under his smock, pulled in tightly so they were barely noticeable. Arthur ran his fingers up Kiku’s spine and under his shoulder blades, caressing his bare skin until Kiku relaxed and stretched his wings out. With a shaking hand, Arthur stroked the feathers, which were dense and sturdy and black like a raven’s, so different from his own wings.

Kiku lay against his chest, carding his hands through his hair and soothing Arthur’s nerves with the warmth of his body. They were so caught up in kissing that it took them both a few moments to realize that the communication device on Kiku’s lapel was buzzing. Reluctantly, Kiku pulled back enough to unclip it, then sat back to listen to what his supervisor had to say.

His eyes widened a bit, and he glanced at Arthur, but he was silent for the duration of the message.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, once Kiku clipped the device back on.

“Your second in command is being sent in for treatment.”

“Treatment for what?”

“That’s confidential. I can’t share the medical records of my patients.”

Arthur sighed. “I suppose you can’t.”

“But I will say…” Kiku began, making a concession. “The necessity of this treatment is a result of injuries sustained from fighting a certain Demon Lord.”

“Is that so?”

Kiku nodded. “I have to go assist with this.” He began to rise from the bed, but Arthur grabbed his wrist. If he had been happy before, now he felt practically giddy.

“He’ll survive. Kiss me more.”

“Ah, but--”

“You’re going to leave my treatment unfinished?”

Kiku’s device was beeping again, urging him to leave. After some consideration-- that Arthur knew was just out of modesty, so he didn’t seem too eager to continue fooling around-- Kiku turned it off.

“Don’t over exert yourself,” Kiku said, then allowed Arthur to pull him back into his arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> For the Asakiku secret santa exchange 2k16. For Iyuro, who requested to have Person A injured and Person B gently bandaging him up. And I LEAPED at the opportunity to write it, because how cute is that scenario?  
> I may continue this. I expanded the story out so much from Arthur and Kiku that it doesn’t feel like it’s over yet. I want to write more in this angel/demon universe.


End file.
